One Day, Some Day, Any Day You Want
by Lunartic Cress
Summary: Crescent Moon is living her dream. Soon she'll arrive at her new job in SCJB headquarters, the best tech company around. But what happens when a certain criminal captain intercepts her clear path to a happy ending? Rated T just in case (Thorne). P.S. IDK who drew image but I love it so credit to whoever did it.
1. Chapter 1

Cress had frappe all over her suit.

Hot, scorching frappe all over her _brand new_ suit.

"I'm sooooo sorry," her bumbling co-worker, Julian, said.

"It—it's okay. I'm sure the stains will come out," Cress said with the fakest smile she'd ever given.

"Really, Crescent, I'm so sorry. It—it was an accident. I—I…" Julian stuttered.

"It's alright, Julian. I'm fine, really," Cress said, feeling slightly more sympathetic for the clumsy oaf than angry.

Slightly.

Having Julian there was worse than having a dozen, misbehaved kids running around.

"I could buy you a new suit," he offered. From anyone else, Cress might have considered this. From Julian, there was no point. The poor man could barely feed himself and Cress was pretty sure he already lived off of stale chips and molded apples on the street.

"That's fine. No, thanks," Cress replied calmly.

"No, really. I could—"

"It's _fine,_ Julian. Now, if you'll please excuse me," she said gesturing to the Women's Room sign over his head.

"Oh—sorry. I guess I'll see you later," Julian said as he walked back to his office.

Cress let out a sigh of relief. She hated to be so rude to people but Julian…Julian was a different kind of creature. She straightened herself, then entered the Women's Room.

Cress loved her job. Loved her work-space, desk, _most_ of her co-workers. Cress loved everything about her job—except for the Women's Room. The Women's Room was one tiny square of pinkish-brown slop.

On three out of four of the walls there were worn out, chipped, tickle-me-pink tile pieces slapped across in random patterns. The remaining wall was supposed to be an artistic statement, said her boss, Sybil Mira, but it wasn't. Couldn't be. It had to be the ugliest piece of "art" Cress had ever seen. It had 30 different colors splashed unto one another through terrible, unclean strokes. To make matters impossibly worse-and nastier-unidentifiable substances stuck out in hard ridges over the stripping paint.

The flooring was made from the same tiles that were on the walls but most of these were missing so when Cress walked in she was forced to step on the uneven, mildewed cement.

She hoped that mildew was only because of water.

There was a half shattered mirror by the too high window. From sunrise to noon, the sunlight glared so terribly on the mirror that you could tan from it. Lastly, the sink leaked because the faucet hadn't been replaced in over fifty years.

When Cress first started working at ECT, she thought they were only having a rough spot with money and would soon fix the disgusting "EMPLOYEES ONLY" Women's Room. The truth was that they had a fair amount of spare money, but they weren't going to waste one cent of it on their single, and very easily disposable, female employee.

For the past five years Cress had avoided the Woman's Room as much as humanely possible, but today was different. Today she was leaving for America.

Cress wanted to look her best when she got off her plane in LA so she decided she could bear at least one more trip to the Women's Room before leaving. She supposed it was proper to say good-bye to _all_ parts of her ECT life before it ended, anyway.

Before her ECT life ended…

Cress was doing it, she realized. She was living her dream.

Ever since she realized she wanted to be a tech girl, she knew she was meant to work at Queens SCJB Tech. Queens SCJB had dominated all other tech companies worldwide in mere months. SCJB was legendary at any and all of its bases, but LA Queens SCJB was the motherboard of the company's glory.

Cress had been working towards this opportunity or 19 long years and she wasn't going to let _anything_ or _anyone_ keep her from her success.

* * *

Cress boarded her last flight. She was already in North America, but in order to keep things cheap she had to travel to Canada first. Canada, then LA, USA.

Surprisingly, nothing had gone wrong with her cargo the entire trip. By now, Cress began to feel quite confident. More confident, perhaps, than she had ever felt before.

Cress heard a loud crash behind her.

"Excuse me, yeah, sorry. Yes. Seriously? Sorry. Uhm, Sir. SIR! Yes, COULD YOU MOVE YOUR LEG? Yeah, thanks," said a voice from somewhere down the rows. Cress shifted to the seat farthest to the window and turned her face to get a better look at what was happening in the back of the plane.

When Cress turned, she saw a startling handsome, tall man with dark hair and a smile on his face. She watched as he turned to apologize to people even as he stepped on them. There was something funny about the picture. The man, with his face twisted in mock fear and apology, didn't seem to care all that much about the angry remarks and threats that followed him up the aisle. Actually, he _thanked_ a few of the angry passengers.

Cress found the spectacle more amusing than anything, though she knew she would be as angry as they if someone had treated her like that. Just as Cress thought this, she realized the man was making his way to her row. She repositioned herself rightly and had just settled in her window seat when the men plopped himself down into the seat next to her.

"Hey," he said, nodding.

"Hi," she squeaked back, though she wished she would have stayed silent. She sounded more like a chocked rat than a girl. He replied to her with a kind hearted grin that made Cress's heart skip a beat.

If the man hadn't turned to answer yet another furious shout, Cress would have melted in that moment. Before, from down the rows and aisles, she hadn't been able to see his eyes. He was attractive, definitely, but his eyes…

His eyes were so very striking and vibrant and intense that Cress knew she could die just by looking at them. Even after that small, small glimpse, she longed to see them again.

"Sorry about that," the man said, startling Cress back into reality, "where were we?"

"Um…" Cress sputtered, trying to pull herself out of the fantasy.

"Right," he said, "Captain Carswell Thorne," he said, reaching for her hand. He lifted her knuckles to his lips, "at your service."

Cress blushed deeply, nearly squealing. In an attempt to calm her racing heart, she merely said, "Captain?"

"Yep. I finished military training just a couple of months ago."

"Shouldn't you still be training? How did you manage to get that ranking so quickly at such a young age?"

He frowned. "Smart girl, huh? Nothing's going to get past you," he laughed, squeezing her hand gently. It was then Cress realized he still had her hand. She stared at their hands for a small second before reluctantly withdrawing hers.

She was blushing furiously again by time he began again. If he would only stop touching her…"So I'm not _technically_ a captain, but I was a cadet." There wasn't even a moment's silence before he spoke. "You never told me your name, you know," he said, again changing the subject. Apparently, he hadn't really liked being discovered in a lie.

"Oh. Uh, I'm-It's Crescent Moon, but my friends just call me Cress," she answered, looking towards her window.

"Well, Cress, it's nice to meet you," he said, extending his hand again.

"Likewise," she said as she took his hand, slightly glancing at him again. At least _that_ time she had sounded human, she thought. But when she pulled back again, her ring got caught on his sweater. She turned only to find his eyes as they glimpsed up to meet hers, teasing.

He started full-force laughing as he watched her struggle fervently to free her hand. Aces, she couldn't even get the ring off...

"Hold on," the man—Thorne—said. He made a lame attempt to get her ring off, then settled on taking off his sweater.

Somehow, Cress managed to keep her eyes adverted without seeming obvious. Thorne seemed content with being disconnected with her, because he only leaned back in his seat when they were separated. Cress, slightly annoyed, scoffed.

Audibly.

Thorne turned on her and smirked. "Fine," he nearly laughed. "Fine. I'll do it, " he said. He grabbed her hand and began disentangling her ring from the sweater.

"Sorry," Cress mumbled under her breath, feeling incredibly stupid.

He shook his head slightly, eyes focused on her tangled ring. Cress stifled a sigh and turned to stare out the window for a distraction from their once again joined hands. What was wrong with her? When had she become such a jerk?

After a few long, silent moments, Cress registered her hand had shifted slightly. She turned back to look at Thorne, but he wasn't looking at her. He was only studying her emerald ring, which was now free of the sweater. Cress didn't remember taking it off.

"Um…Can I have that back, please?" Cress said, already holding out her hand.

"I don't know, yet," he replied, still not looking at her.

"E-excuse me?"

He gave no response. He only twirled it over and over in his hand, back and forth.

"Hello? Anybody there?" she said waving her hand.

"Hmm?" he answered, obviously not listening.

Cress sighed. "Give me my ring back. Now." She had meant to say it with authority, but, as she had oh so many times before, she only sounded small. Finally, he looked at her.

"Why?" he asked.

Cress' patience slipped. " _Because_ —because its mine. Now hand it over," she demanded, though she sounded small.

"But emerald is my birthstone," he replied almost looking sad.

Cress had to focus on a spot beyond his shoulder to keep from giving in. "So?" she said.

"Sooo…shouldn't it be mine?" he reasoned.

Her eyes flashed his before returning to the aircraft's sole empty seat.

"Give it to me," she said again.

"Yes ma'am," he said loudly, saluting her. Instead of just giving it to her, he slipped it unto her finger.

"Thank you," Cress said.

"Your welcome, darling."

"How'd you do that?" Cress asked softly, before her blush took over her.

"Do what?" Thorne drawled in an almost whisper, leaning in closer. He was smirking like a devil.

Uncomfortable, she said, "You know." She waved her ringed hand wildly despite the small amount of space, "how'd you get the ring off without me noticing? I'm not usually one to get distracted enough for a stunt like that, so…" she raised an expectant eyebrow and, realizing she had lowered her voice as well, scooted clumsily closer. "So…how did you do it?"

He hesitated a minute. He just stared into her eyes with his own gleaming in amusement. "It's a secret," he said, smirking some more.

"Well...what is it?"

He leaned in closer and gestured for her to do the same. Not thinking, she did. Cress turned her face so that her ear was facing him instead of her mouth.

"You see—the thing is…" Thorne whispered. Cress nodded, a silent invitation. "The thing is," he shifted closer, "I'm a criminal mastermind."

Cress' immediate reaction was to laugh, but when she turned and saw his serious expression, she remembered where she'd seen him before.

This man, this "Captain", was America's—no-the _world's_ most wanted criminal.

Cress was suddenly nervous. Although she had paused too long, she continued to laugh to feign ignorance. She had hours before they'd make it to LA. She would find some way to call the authorities.

"Hmm," he said, glancing at her sideways.

"What?" she asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. Had she really blown it that soon?

"Nothing, just wanted to make sure," he said, turning away. Cress nearly sagged in relief, though she noted he was suddenly quiet.

A curvy aircraft attendant came to greet them with a table of goods. "Hungry, you two?" the blond asked with a slight French accent.

"Only for love and affection," Thorne said as Cress rolled her eyes.

The attendant eyed Thorne disapprovingly but he only stared back. After what felt like an eternity she said "Name's Emilie, if you need anything." Thorne's eyes trailed after her retreating figure with raised brows.

"What a woman," he muttered, though Cress heard him clearly.

Cress hiccupped suddenly and loudly. Already mortified enough from the glares of the passengers in front of her, Thorne's returned attention on her was almost too much to bear.

"You okay?" he asked.

Cress turned her focus back outside the window but nodded.

After a few minutes Thorne said, "You're way too open, you know."

It took her a second to realize he was talking to her, "What?"

"I said, you're way too open. You probably get stole from all the time. You won't last a minute in LA," he said, taking her arms.

She tensed as he strategically placed her arms to her sides. "There," he said, pulling away.

"I—I'm sorry, what just happened," Cress said confused.

His immediate reaction was to laugh as loudly and suddenly as possible.

Wide eyed and blushing, Cress glanced at the other passengers. No one seemed to notice them.

"What?" Cress said, feeling defensive.

He took in a deep breath in an attempt to stop laughing. "I—," he laughed again, "I'm sorry, that was—that was just kinda cute. You looked _cute._ Like a baby," he said before laughing again. He threw his head back and slapped his knee. _Now_ they had everyone's attention.

Cress was thoroughly offended and apparently made a face that said as much because Thorne doubled over laughing again. "Your embarrassing yourself," she muttered quietly. This only resulted in more laughter.

When he finally stopped he gave her another thoughtful look, "I was teaching you how to defend yourself," he said, and after a pause, he nudged her arm, "just so you know."

After yet another long silence, Cress turned to him. He was still smiling slightly and was staring at her intently. "What?" she asked him for the nineteenth time.

"Nothing," he said shrugging, though he didn't take his eyes off of her.

Cress huffed, "Fine," she said turning back to the window.

She found herself lost in yet another daydream of her life in LA. She thought of how happy she would be now. How bold she was. Cress could see her life changing for the better right before her eyes. For a second time, she thought of her accomplishment. Not many lived their dream and _she was_. Little, shy Cress was living her dream.

She smiled to herself and traced a hand down her window in awe of the sights. Remembering where she was, Cress glanced back at Thorne. He was still looking at her and he was still smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! I had planned to update so much sooner than this, so sorry! I actually wrote most of this over a week ago but had to plan, add an ending, and revise. I'm a dancer and it's Nutcracker season so I have been INCREDIBLY busy thus my slow updates. I do not intend in any way to be a unreliable fanfic writer, so please don't think this of me! Thanks so much to reviewers, including "Guests". You guys, one review can light a fanfic writer's entire day! Following/favoriting me lets me know you like my writing and are interested to see more. Following/favoriting the story lets me know you are watching for more of it. It's not a commitment, but it is an encouragement to writers everwhere! PLEASE REVIEW! I think making rules such as "ten reviews or no update" are kind of harsh, but can't I set a goal? Y'all, I'm not asking for a tear-jerking 10,000 word reviews, (though these would be dearly treasured, lol), I just want to know that you are there, reading, listening. A simple "Cool" or even a "not cool" would surely suffice. Again, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! I think I will start setting goals, though, just to see how I'm doing. Reasonable goal number for chapter three, anyone?**

 **Special thanks to Guests to whom I can't respond: THANKS SO MUCH! CRESSWELL IS OTP DON'T EVEN TRY TO DENY IT! LOVE THIS PAIRING!**

* * *

Cress awoke with a jolt and nearly fell out of her seat. Recovering, she looked around and found she was still on the plane. But…

Something was missing, she realized. No. Not something, _someone._

At first, Cress only panicked slightly. Worried people would notice her frantic behavior, she calmly scanned the plane for him. But then, after ten more seconds—or ten more years, she didn't know—Cress began to panic fully. Frenzied, she spun round and round in her chair, no longer caring if people noticed her worry. Cress realized the seriousness of her situation slowly. She had let Carswell Thorne, a wanted criminal, get away. Stars, she had fallen asleep right there, right next to him. There was no telling what he might have done to her given the chance. She had almost given him that chance.

How had she felt safe enough to fall asleep in front of him, anyway? Had he drugged her somehow? Cress' worry and shame only increased more and more when she thought of all the damage Thorne could do, of the damage he already _had_ done.

Because of thinking up a thousand different scenarios where Thorne hurt someone and it was all her fault, Cress was even more startled than she might have been when he casually threw himself down into the seat beside her. She was so startled, in fact, that a small, surprised scream erupted from her lips.

When Thorne asked, "What is it?" Cress only screamed more. Unsurprisingly, Thorne moved to cover her mouth almost immediately. It was obvious he was trying to hide their current predicament from the other passengers because he shifted to cover view of her from the row ahead of them. "What's wrong?" he whispered harshly in her ear. Cress' eyes widened in terror and she tried to scream again but he pushed more force onto her mouth, silencing her. She froze in fear before him.

After a moment of her own compliance and a deathly glare from him, he released her.

For the first time since they met Thorne looked angry. For the twentieth time since his identity was revealed Cress regretted every move she made. Like a badly scolded child Cress looked to the floor with horrified, wide eyes that spoke loudly enough, though she kept her mouth shut tightly.

Cress heard Thorne curse under his breath before he grabbed her hand, dragged her from her seat, and shoved her into the unisex bathroom with him. Thorne scowled as he locked the door behind them. "You know to stay quiet," he said as a statement instead of a question.

Numb, Cress nodded. "Good," Thorne said. "This is not how this was supposed to play out," he mumbled more to himself than to her. He moved as far from her as he could as if she carried a deadly, contagious disease before he spoke again. "Listen, Cress. I don't mean to hurt you. In fact, I can almost guarantee I won't," he said sincerely enough, though Cress didn't believe a word. "But I need you to give me some information. You see, there's a large sum of univs awaiting the winner of this certain game currently being played in, ah, Criminal Land and I intend, by all means, to be that winner. Do you understand?"

Cress stared at him from behind her loosed, long locks. She opened her mouth to speak but decided to shut it again. Once, twice. Finally, she nodded. "O-okay," she croaked, trying to sound brave.

"Alright. Now, I'm going to lead us out there again and if anyone asks you were feeling sick and I, the caring friend, had to help you. Got it?" Again, Cress nodded dumbly. Thorne ticked off his fingers as he listed off items, "Here are the rules. You will not cry. You will not look at me like I'm some kind of predator. And you will most certainly _not_ scream. Understood?"

"Y-yes…Captain," Cress added, her bottom lip wobbling. For just a second Thorne's features seemed to soften, but it happened so quickly Cress was sure she imagined it. After all, why would a heartless villain care for their pathetic victim?

Thorne crossed the room and unlocked the door. Turning towards her again, he gently placed his hand near the small of her back. Cress recoiled from his touch which resulted in Thorne flinching away from her. Apparently deciding against touching her altogether, he moved his hand away, opened the door wide, and merely gestured roughly in the direction of their seats.

Outside of the bathroom, he seemed entirely nonchalant. Thorne only winked casually at any prying eyes of strangers. Taken off guard, they simply grinned and winked back, suspecting nothing.

Cress bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling when they sat down. A _ping_ sounded loudly before a sign blinked up red and green letters into her face _. "SEATBELTS ON. PREPARE FOR LANDING IN LESS THAN AN HOUR."_ Cress snuggled into her seat and let everything that had happened to her in the last few hours sink in.

For the last time, she turned her face to her window and drew her legs under her in a comfortable position. Thorne stayed completely silent beside her though Cress could still feel his eyes on her. She ignored him.

She moved some of her rebellious hair back into place laboriously. Suddenly cold, she stretched her sweater's sleeves to cover her hands before hugging herself tightly.

They were low enough to see birds now and Cress saw a group of seagulls fly around freely. She gently pressed her cold fingertips against the glass of the window and smiled.

Thorne remained silent beside her even as her face contorted and her body shook uncontrollably as silent sobs escaped from her lips. Thorne also remained silent, Cress noted, even as she broke his first rule more quickly than it had come.

The plane landed. Cress had taken many breaks between crying sessions and she was now calm, a single tear remaining on her face that she hadn't bothered to wipe away.

She looked to Thorne for instruction and he only nodded. Standing up, he extended a hand for her. She hesitated at first but when he raised his brows in a silent command she accepted. Together, they slowly made their way towards the exit.

Cress tried to keep her eyes up, to at least pretend she still had some dignity, some sort of strength. He had already seen her cry tirelessly she wouldn't let him have the pleasure of watching her cower like a beaten puppy in front of everyone.

They made it to the metal detector and, finally, Thorne released her hand. He didn't take her hand again as they walked further, to the luggage shoot. They had nearly made it there when a beautiful girl with curly blonde hair intercepted them.

"Hi. Sorry, but do I know you from somewhere? I think I know you from somewhere," she said lightly in a French accent as she pointed an accusatory finger at Thorne playfully.

"No," Thorne replied simply, sounding disinterested. He side stepped and moved past her rudely. Cress followed.

"No," the blonde said, catching up and once again blocking their way. She placed a slender, manicured hand against Thorne's chest, "I definitely know you."

Thorne released a theatrically long and loud sigh before rolling his eyes backward dramatically. Despite everything, Cress had to admit she was impressed with his performance. " _No,"_ he said, removing the French girl's hand, "you don't."

He touched Cress's elbow in a wordless message for her to follow him, and, again, he pushed past the French girl, though this time he almost knocked her over.

"I never!" Cress heard the girl say from behind them and, for some reason, Cress found herself smirking.

"What was that about?" Cress said aloud after a while.

Thorne grabbed her hand again, guiding her, and raised an eyebrow in question though his focus seemed elsewhere, "Hmm?"

"Um, well—oh!" was all Cress managed as Thorne barreled them forward, increasing their pace so that she almost ran into wall.

"Sorry," he said.

"Um…right. That girl-What was that about, anyway? Did she really know you?"

In one quick, small movement Thorne plucked up a green luggage bag from the assembly line with his free hand. He let out a small sigh that immediately made Cress regret asking. He squinted his eyes in mock thought as though he was trying to figure out what the simplest explanation of this particular complicated situation was.

That, or he was trying to think up a lie.

Probably the latter, Cress decided when he took more time than necessary to answer.

"Uhm…Yeah, she knew me. From a party or something like that about three months ago? Four? I don't know," he waves his hand, "something like that."

"Why'd you lie then? Why not tell the truth? Wouldn't it have been simpler and considerably less rude if you had?" Cress asked.

"No," Thorne laughed, "no, it wouldn't have. Emilie—that's her name, by the way—never knows when to shut up," he shrugged. "I just didn't have time for her."

"Oh," Cress said, looking down at her feet.

Thorne glanced down at her, brows furrowed, but quickly returned his focus to the walkway. His eyes darted around for a minute before he made them turn quite suddenly round a corner. Hidden behind a large plant was a narrow door with a faded sign that read _EMPLOYEES ONLY_ in large letters. Thorne hurriedly swung the door open, released her hand, motioned her inside, and, after one last glance around, entered himself. He closes the door and all is darkness.

"Captain?" Cress says quietly, uncertain.

"Shhhh. Hold on," he whispers. The closeness of his voice hints that he is closer to her than she had at first thought.

Slowly, Cress inches backward. Soon, the shocking sensation of cold metal against her own heated skin alerts her. Shaken, Cress decides to remain still. She listens for Thorne's breathing, then holds her own.

After a few moments of silence Cress hears Thorne shift. Not long after, white light fills the room. She blinks the darkness from her eyes then opens her mouth to speak. Halfheartedly Thorne raises a dismissive hand, silencing her. She clamps her mouth shut and instead focuses on her current surroundings.

They are in a small, near useless storage closet. The thing was so small that Thorne and Cress are almost touching elbows though they are on opposite sides of the unit. A metal shelf pushed at the back of the closet was what Cress had rammed into only minutes before. The narrow shelf has scattered pieces of paper and electronics strewn about it in a disorganized manner. The walls are slickly painted in standard white and the floor is covered with a dark blue carpet. Finally, a single, incredibly small desk pilfers most of the space within the storage closet.

The doorknob twitches and Thorne immediately reaches his arm out in front of Cress protectively. No. Not protectively, she reminds herself, _possessively_.

Cress tenses when the knob rattles again, this time more roughly. Again, Thorne responds. He moves in front of her, fists at the ready.

The knob moves once more before a seemingly intoxicated man stumbles in. "This isn't the bathroom," he sings, giggling.

Thorne visibly relaxed, his shoulders briefly losing their otherwise perfect posture. He scowls at the drunken man, then shoves him out through the storage closet's door. A pained exclamation from the other room sounds, "Watch out, _Roland_ ," a male's voice laughs.

Cress and Thorne watch as the two drunken men fumble around the airport, singing incoherent lyrics out of key and too loudly.

"Stupid drunks," mutters Thorne. "Come on, Cress, this way." Thorne grips her elbow tightly and leads the two of them down a dark staircase Cress hadn't noticed before now. Thorne drags her down none too gently, two steps at a time. Cress, having barely avoided breaking her neck for the third time, runs into Thorne when he suddenly turns on her. He lifts her up then swings her across his right shoulder in one fast movement. Cress's stomach flipped and she squealed, grasping for dear life onto his shirt when he, again, ran down the steps. She balled her fists tighter around the soft material of his shirt when he stumbled after just a few steps.

"Sorry," Thorne said, quickly recovering. Cress had to bite her lip to keep from screaming.

After what felt like hours, Cress felt their pattern shift. Instead of descending, they were now on level ground. Speedily, Thorne righted her on her feet. She was beginning to feel like a satellite being constantly spun out of orbit. They were in a basement, of sorts, with only a single, dim lamp lighting the entire room. "Come on," Thorne panted, moving ahead of her. Cress turned around to see another set of stairs, this one leading upwards. Cress's resolve crumbled at the sight of the exhausting work that loomed only a foot in front of her.

Not wanting Thorne to see her as weak, Cress lets her fantasies consume her. She is an explorer. A daring, adventurous explorer who never tires. Cress sighs once more before rolling up her sweater's sleeves meaningfully and following after Thorne.

Seeing her determined look, Thorne increased his pace to a slow jog. Cress then increases her speed, too, and passes by him easily. His brows shoot up and he grins, chasing after her. Cress finds herself also smiling and runs as fast as she can up the steps. Cress feels like a child again when Thorne pokes at her sides, tickling her. She laughs loudly, trying to shove him off. Between her laughs, she catches the happy glint in his eyes.

"Thought you could outmatch me, did you?" he says playfully and as Cress laughed some more. He stopped tickling her with one last chuckle and started up the steps again, challenging her.

"Oh, no you don't," Cress said aloud, running after him.

In the midst of the fun, she had somehow forgotten he was a criminal, that he had kidnapped her. Cress forgot about these and other details as she slammed her tiny fist into his side and he doubled over in laughter.

Cress's knees buckled and she fell into him. They fell, a laughing pile, down the staircase. "Stars!" shouted Thorne. He covered his eyes with his hand at their predicament and laughed again.

Cress's hair was tangled all around them for it had freed itself from her long braid. Her head stuck awkwardly near his stomach as she fell into another fit of laughter as well.

They stayed there, Cress laughing harder than she ever had in her life, until they could finally breathe again.

"We have got to do something about this hair," Thorne said, finally.

"Yeah," Cress answered, not really paying attention.

Thorne fumbled for something in his pockets, stopping with a mildly annoyed huff. "Did you see my knife?"

"You—your knife?"

"Yeah. Did you see it fall?"

"Um…Oh, there!" Cress said, spotting it in the dull light. Only after announcing its whereabouts did she figure it was probably _not_ wise to give a knife's location information to your kidnapper.

To a kidnapper, in a dark basement, alone.

Cress thought that maybe _she_ wasn't wise.

"Move over a bit…yeah. Okay, hold still," Thorne said, grabbing the knife. "Sorry, but it grows back," he said as he reached behind her head and began sawing through her thick locks.

Cress gasped but remained still as she felt the weight free itself from her skull.

"There," he said, finishing moments later. "What do you think?"

Cress, still gaping, reached behind her head and grasped at her newly cut hair. "I—It's wonderful. It's lighter. Thank you."

She saw him grin in the dark, brushing away wayward locks. "You're welcome."

He reached a hand down to help her up and she accepted. He gestured to the staircase again. "We should probably go," he said.

"Right," said Cress, a hand still holding her short strands.

The pair began again on their journey again, slowly yet surely making progress. The trip was less tense and strange and frightening now, their tickle-fight remaining a wordless joke between them. Happy and more comfortable than she should have been, Cress payed no attention to the way Thorne's weapon gleamed eerily in the lamplight as they slowed nor did she give any care to the unexpected added company.


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, it as been FOREVER! So sorry! Nutcracker's over and then, woop-dee-doo, here's exams! Anyway, I'll try to update more. I just noticed that the second chapter didn't really end properly, though, since I already posted it, I think I'm gonna leave it alone. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Cress gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in surprise. Standing in front of her were two large men. They were muscled and tall and had hunched backs like an animal's. Each had sharpened, unnatural fingernails that stretched three inches from their fingertips and canines that gleamed in the low light.

"Who are _they?"_ Cress asked Thorne, pointing frantically in the monsters' direction.

"They don't like me," he said, pulling out his knife. Cress's eyes widened in horror and she felt she might faint. Thorne, as he had done earlier, pushed her behind him to shield her. He then stepped cautiously closer to the two men, carefully keeping his knife from their view.

"Carswell, how have you been?" the smaller one sneered. He had brown hair and ugly, bright hazel eyes. "Found anything interesting?"

"No, today's been kind of slow," Thorne replied, flashing a grin, though they could all tell it was forced. "You?"

"Only a note informing me of your betrayal," the man said, a small growl in his throat.

"Ahh…That. I'm guessing my offer was not satisfactory to you?"

Both men let out a loud growl, almost a howl and Thorne took a step back in surprise.

"Now, now. We can work this out. What do you want, 25%" Two additional growls in unison caused Thorne to raise his hand defensively. "Whoa, men. I mean 25% plus the already determined amount."

At this the men seemed almost satisfied. They behaved as spoiled children who had more trouble than usual getting what they wanted. Cress hated that Thorne was giving in to them, even if she had no idea what they were talking about.

"Alright, now that's cleared up," said Thorne, letting his hands fall to his sides and strategically placing his knife into his pocket, "back to real things. How's Alicia, Jim?"

"Don't call me Jim," said the yellow-eyed one from earlier, "or I'll bite your head off."

"Still too soon? Sorry. Well, now me and my…" he gestured down at Cress and the wolf-men seemed to have only just noticed her, "—my companion here must be going. We've got a lot of work to do today so…" Thorne grabbed Cress's arm and dragged her towards the men. When Thorne tried to move past Jim, the huge man grabbed hold of his arm.

"And why do you think you get to leave?"

Thorne chuckled nervously, and tried retracting his arm from Jim's grip. Jim held on tighter. Thorne stared at his arm a minute before replying cheerily, "I thought we came to an agreement already. 25%, right?"

"75% split between the two of us. You said plus the amount already promised."

Thorne flexed his jaw. Though he was obviously intimidated by these men, his loyalty to money and greed seemed to take precedence of this fear.

"Right. 75%. Now, my arm?" Jim finally released them but still followed them with his eyes. When they were nearly out of earshot Jim called out to them.

Cress and Thorne turned. "If you try to jip us out of what we deserve again, we'll kill you," Jim said happily as his friend grinned with him.

Thorne grinned and turned back onto the path he had started, his hand still gripping Cress's arm tightly. After another few minutes passed, Cress looked behind her shoulder to see if the men had followed them. She was pleased to see no sign of them and sighed with relief. She turned back forwards nearly stumbling into Thorne when he stopped suddenly. Looming high above her was a gray door with a miniature window. Thorne stepped up to this door and opened it for the both of them.

Bright sunlight poured into the basement, momentarily blinding Cress. Thorne, still holding her arm, ushered her out first. He followed, stepping into the sunlight. Cress had most definitely noticed his attractiveness before, but now it was apparent through every feature, every curve of his face. He was the most handsome man Cress had ever laid eyes on.

Completely ignoring that Cress had just turned into a puddle of mush in front of him, Thorne continued on his trek. He turned around a corner to get to the parking lot, Cress assumed, and pulled extra hard on her arm.

Cress yelped, her arm suddenly throbbing in his grip.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Cress," he said finally releasing her.

"It-it's fine," replied Cress, biting her lip as she rubbed gently at her arm. She felt like crying, but thought it inappropriate. Then again, how much did she really know of how to behave while being kidnapped? As the thought crossed her mind, she thought it may not be entirely improper to scream at this moment, when he'd let her go. Cress considered this a moment, then decided to remain quiet. Excluding the fact, he'd probably stab her or do worse for screaming, she was certain she would feel incredibly awkward in said situation. Cress could already imagine his funny furrowed brow as she screamed for no apparent reason.

"What are you thinking?"

It took Cress a moment to realize he meant her and another moment to think of something to say.

"I—."

After a too long pause, Thorne raised a brow questioningly. "You…what?"

Cress decided to just be honest, though it was probably naïve. "I was thinking of screaming, but I felt that would be weird for both of us, so I didn't," she rambled.

"Oh. Well, thank you. For not screaming," said Thorne with a surprised look.

"You're welcome," Cress replied uncertainly.

"Turn this way," Thorne pointed to a nice, expensive looking RV. It was blue and green and black and red and had a picture of a naked lady on the outside of the driver's panel. Sprawled near the gas tank were the words _214 Rampion, Class 11.3_ in large letters.

"Rampion?"

"Hmm?"

Cress pointed to the vehicle, " _Rampion_? What's a Rampion?"

"Technically, lettuce," Thorne said, "but I thought ' _214 Lettuce'_ sounded way less cool."

"You seem to care an awful lot about what's 'cool'," Cress sighed.

"Yeah. I guess I do."

They were quiet until they made it to the car. To Cress's surprise, Thorne didn't stuff her in the trunk or hide her in the back but opened the passenger door for her to enter. He had to pick her up to help her into the seat.

"Thank you," Cress squeaked.

"Welcome."

There was a 28 second pause before he himself had climbed in. He started the ignition. Cress looked around the thing. It was one of the most spacious RVs she'd seen, though she'd never been in a RV before. As a child, Cress had thought they were the most awesome vehicles in creation.

In front of her there was a compartment that most likely held a makeshift foldable desk. She longed to open it and again have the security of a laptop resting on her legs, or the wonderful stretch of her fingers across a keyboard. Cress refrained, however, and refocused her attention on the back of the vehicle. Cress turned as far as she could in her seat to get a better look. There was a good sized table with a booth of white seats where Cress saw some seatbelts peek out. The refrigerator was high-quality and stainless steel. She could even see the digital screen that covered most of the door showing the refrigerator's contents. Next to this was a seamless stove and oven, both were sleek and black. The cabinets that surrounded these accessories were wooden and a cherry brown. Back farther there was the living room with two comfy looking couches, both of which were an off-white color with gold trim. Like before, Cress could see seatbelts in certain places of these seats. There seemed to be additional compartments to hold goodies and food and drink hidden all over the RV because Cress's eye caught on at least two more. Farther down the RV was a huge flat screen TV of the newest model, she was sure. The screen was off, but Cress could already imagine the perfect, crisp image that probably came off that screen. The TV was mounted on the wall diagonally facing the couches, which were so close they were almost across from each other. Under the TV there was a decent sized fireplace that was lit with fake embers and fire. The fake fire crackled and rolled, mesmerizing Cress. She couldn't see any of the bedrooms, though she longed to very much. The entire area wasn't dark like most RVs but had plenty of natural light floating in. Cress also noticed the state of the art lighting system and chandelier that hung over the living room area. She guessed that these were equally as bright and yearned to see them turned on. Cress sighed in contentment and stayed looking behind her until her neck ached from her position. At this, she realized she should probably be paying attention to where her kidnapper was taking her. Cress shifted and turned in her seat. Thorne glanced at her once and smirked but stayed quiet. They stayed like this for a while, him perfectly satisfied with the quietness and her enthralled by the places they were passing.

Cress slipped off her shoes and then pulled the heels of her feet into her thighs. She then snuggled up into the chair. She yawned sweetly and let her long locks fall in front of her eyes. Cress certainly didn't _feel_ tired but she was understandably so. Besides, she wanted to rest on this ridiculously comfy seat.

Again, Cress let her fantasies take over her thoughts. She was an explorer, an archaeologist about to search the Sahara for clues into everyone's past. She was brave and daring and fought off many wild animals that tried to harm her companions. She was strong, adventurous, and brave.

Her fantasy dissipated when Thorne slammed on brakes for the nineteenth time. It was only then that she realized what a terrible driver he turned out to be. Cress had already seen him run at least four red lights and merge lanes more than once or twice. He had also almost rammed into a minivan while messing around with the radio, trying to get signal to his favorite station. Just then, he had decided to stop for the light but he did so very roughly.

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Got somewhere to be? You might want to cancel."

She hadn't thought of how being kidnapped could ruin her career forever. She tried not to think about it.

"You didn't answer the question," she said simply.

"I don't think I should tell you."

"I'll count then," Cress said defiantly, the effects of her fantasy still making her feel big and noble. "One…Two…Thr—."

"You aren't serious, right?" Thorne interrupted, laughing.

"Someone's in a good mood."

"Look. I just lost 25% of my profits in two minutes flat. No, I am most certainly _not_ in a good mood."

Thorne swerved right and nearly ran into a light post. Cress screamed and gripped her harness. He straitened the vehicle and sighed deeply, looking slightly shaken himself.

"Are you okay?" he asked, after a moment.

"Yeah," replied Cress meekly, clutching her stomach.

"We're…" he stopped himself, then seemed to decide it wasn't worth it, "we're almost there, by the way."

"Okay." A pause. "And, yes, actually. I had somewhere to be, which I thought you already knew? Considering you knew where I'd be and you kidnapping me and such."

"Kidnapping? Is that what you think?"

"Well…yeah. That was what I thought," for some reason Cress know felt stupid for assuming this.

"This is no kidnapping, merely a borrowing. A loan of your intelligence," Thorne said matter-of-factly.

"Right. Except…that makes absolutely no sense," Cress deadpanned.

Thorne busted out laughing at her remark. She felt her cheeks heat and laughed with him.

"You might just be right," Thorne said. "Where did you have to be, though? I didn't do that much research."

Cress was surprised this pained her slightly. It kind of hurt knowing that someone could just pass over the details of her life because they looked boring. And those details surely looked boring being that her life had been bottled up in her house, her small town school, and her average job. Cress pushed these feelings away, however, and continued the conversation.

"I was going to Queens SCJB headquarters for my first day. Hopefully, I was going to start working there. It's, like, a big deal to tech lovers."

Thorne nodded, though Cress was sure he had no idea what she was talking about. "That would've been nice. Congrats."

Did he seem…regretful?

"Yeah, it was kind of my dream," she said sadly, ironically.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not sounding apologetic at all, "but they'll probably take you back."

Cress only sighed in response and continued to look out her window. She had no idea where in LA she was but she at least she knew they were in LA. And being in LA was good enough for her. Despite her current predicament, she couldn't help but be glad and hopeful when she looked around her. Los Angles was a beautiful city. She wasn't off to a great start but, someday, this could be her home. Whenever she escaped from Thorne, whenever that would be, she would start anew. She would get a job at Queens SCJB and she was going to _love_ it. It would be the best job imaginable. She would make great friends there and settle down for life.

Cress was a 24-year-old woman; she needed to start acting like it.

First, Cress had to escape from Thorne. She was a little saddened by this prospect, because she felt he wasn't all bad and would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed her time with him. Maybe if Thorne wasn't a criminal and if he hadn't have kidnapped her, they might have grown to be friends one day. She couldn't think of that, though. She had to think of an escape plan.

Thorne was obviously not the best kidnapper. He had left her unrestrained in the passenger seat right beside him. He had also left her without a blindfold so she could see wherever they went, though, admittedly, she hadn't been paying attention. He had also granted her access to his knife for a short while. It was painfully apparent he wasn't that worried about her running off, whether it was about her actual importance or just because of his attitude, she didn't know. If she only focused, she could figure this out.

Thorne said he needed her smarts and computer hacking skills; he knew that much about her. But then he said he hadn't been very thorough in his examination of her records. She couldn't tell if he just said that to gain her trust, though. He didn't strike her as someone who did a whole lot of planning, either, though he wasn't an idiot.

It didn't matter.

She was an intelligent and clever spy, and no man could kidnap her. Crescent Moon Darnel, the youngest and greatest spy at the agency, would not be on the losing side for long.


End file.
